After watching the messenger girl depart, Caine glanced at the letter clutched in his hands and reconsidered the matter of Westbryant. He believed he must prepare himself for the possibility that Mr. Azk would not reply for another month. That is, when early July arrived, he might simply accompany a few military officials to Westbryant, without the protection of the former "Death Magistrate." In that case, the shadow of the Rose School would continue to loom over him. "There are two options. If the risks prove extremely high, then we simply abandon the identity of D'Artagnan altogether; otherwise, we seriously consider the 'client list,' ensuring that no entity suspected of ties to the Rose School is included in our outreach network... Hmm, perhaps we should first establish clear targets so that unforeseen developments remain manageable. The intelligence provided by Daniz appears to originate from the 'Ice Mountain Admiral.' Among the two native generals mentioned here, these two stand out as particularly distinct. For all other factions, regardless of their alignment, their annotations invariably reflect a closer affinity with either Roon, Intis, Fosac, or Feneport, or a balanced interplay among several internal factions. Only these two are explicitly noted as receiving support solely from the Ling Sect—no foreign affiliations mentioned." Klein read the content of the letter once again from the beginning, beginning to grasp the underlying point. He initially suspected that these two native generals had forged ties with the Order of Knowledge. By leaving Admiral Edwena unmarked, she deliberately emphasized their distinction, signaling to Germain Sparo that they were potential partners. Thus, she need not worry about leaks to Daniz, since there was no concrete information to share—only subtle hints. "Maysanyes, Katami... the former enjoys support from the royal lineage within the Spiritual Order, while the latter quietly claims descent from the god of death... Hm, even if true, how many generations back might that lineage stretch? If confronted with Mr. Azk, how would they then address him?" Klein chuckled, then casually shook the letter, sending it into the flames. He then settled into a refined afternoon tea in a semi-open room with a large balcony, enjoying the moment until the butler Walter entered and whispered, "Sir, another officer has arrived—this time regarding the case of Kalon's suicide." "The official trail of this matter has consistently pointed toward Dautremer Thénardier, so even with Baron Sindralis handling the aftermath, the police still have to visit from time to time—otherwise, the newspaper reporters would accuse them of negligence. As for the attack on Senator Mahet, since Dautremer Thénardier was merely a significant eyewitness, he was only disturbed once his statement was recorded and then left undisturbed thereafter." "Please have them come to the sitting room by the garden on the second floor," said Cline, placing the half-eaten vanilla sponge cake back on the tray and sipping his红茶. As the host, he need not worry about wasting the afternoon tea treats, as the leftovers belonged to the servants. If he always finished his portions neatly or requested just the right amount, the reputation of being sparing would gradually spread among the servants and eventually reach the ears of the ladies and gentlemen. Walter responded without much change in expression: "They'd like to invite you to the police station today, since it's the day when the Caron family identifies the suspect. 'They're sorry,' they said, 'but this is an essential procedural step that cannot be missed.'" Cain rose slowly and said: "I understand, Richard. Please fetch my coat, hat, and cane." Having now stepped forward, he was quite willing to observe from the perspective of a bystander what exactly the Caron family had gone through and how the situation was unfolding toward Baron Sindras. ... At the North District Police Station, in a spacious room. Through a glass wall that served as a partition, Cain saw the Caron family: an elderly man, an elderly woman, a woman in her late thirties, a teenager of about fifteen or sixteen, and a girl barely in her teens. Their eyes swept over the group of suspects behind the glass, pausing particularly on Daven Tantris. "It's him!" they exclaimed. "It's him!" "The young man shouted loudly, his eyes suddenly turning red as he clenched his fists, striving to rush toward the glass wall. 'It's him, Officer. It's him!' The woman, nearing forty, suddenly broke down in tears, gazing at Daven Tanatès with a mixture of hatred and resentment. Her little girl, clutching her tightly, cried out: 'Daddy! Give my Daddy back!' The two elders each wiped away tears—one struggling to remain composed, the other nearly fainting from sobs—so that the atmosphere of sorrow quickly filled the room. Yet, before this moment, Cline had never seen either of them. Had their memories been implanted? He furrowed his brow, sighing softly as he pondered what had befallen the Caron family. Meanwhile, in the basement morgue of the police station, Dely Simonne picked up a pencil, her body slightly trembling, and began sketching." Since she had come to the police station to assist, she might encounter reporters coming and going, so she had changed from her usual medium's robe into a female police uniform—a blouse and skirt in a black-and-white check pattern, paired with knee-length leather boots. At that moment, her hands moved restlessly, and soon items such as the desk, the rounded window, ink bottles, and a revolver began to appear on the paper surface. A figure was also reflected in the rounded window. The figure had neatly combed hair, a blend of silver and black, a broad forehead, high cheekbones, and several lines of wrinkles—exactly Lord Sindras! A pencil dropped from Dailie’s hand onto the paper. She then raised her head and addressed Leonard Mitchell, who had come to assist, and the two inspectors responsible for coordination: “Right at the moment of Carlon’s suicide, there was a strong resistance within him—indicating that his death was not merely a psychological event, but rather guided and suggested by something more profound. This is not simply a psychological issue; it involves a higher level of extraordinary power.” "This contradiction, this opposition, caused him emotional collapse and spiritual explosion, to the point that, before his death, he partially revealed his true self—this is exactly the image that remained fixed in his eyes." The senior inspector furrowed his brows and asked: "Ms. Simonetti, you're saying that Caron saw the real murderer? That Lord Sindras is indeed the real killer?" Leonard Mitchell immediately chuckled. "What the eyes see doesn't necessarily equate to reality. As for my magic act, you might not understand it—but if I were the murderer, I could easily have arranged for someone who looked very much like Lord Sindras to appear in the room just before Caron died." The two inspectors were satisfied with this explanation and breathed a collective sigh of relief. "We'll immediately arrange for Caron's family to come over. Please help us gather more authentic clues without causing them any distress." "Good," Dail rubbed her eyes. "I'll head to the restroom first." She had omitted the unusual eyeshadow and blush this time, and aside from appearing slightly paler than usual, she no longer carried any eerie air. In fact, she seemed noticeably younger—her age had shifted from early thirties back to her twenties—her features bright and her features clear and refined. Leonard Mitchell, having anticipated a long stretch of busy work ahead, followed suit and left the mortuary, heading toward the upper-level restroom. As they stepped off the staircase and rounded the corner, they suddenly spotted a gentleman with silvering hair approaching the far end of the corridor, accompanied by a butler, heading toward the police station. The man was mature and composed, with deep, moonlit lake-like eyes—none other than Daven Tancé. Dailie Simonne paused momentarily, thoughtfully turned her head toward Leonard Mitchell, and noticed that the dark-haired, green-eyed "poet" was also gazing at Daven Tancé. "Why did you suddenly apply to assist me earlier?" The member of the spiritual order should be nearly identified now—there's plenty for you all to do...” Daili didn't give Leonard a chance to find a reason, pausing briefly before directly asking, “Do you think that gentleman we just saw had something amiss?” Leonard shifted his gaze, remaining silent for two seconds, then replied, “Dawn Thantès has met with the Archbishop.” He deliberately neither confirmed nor denied, merely casually mentioning Saint Anthony, suggesting that the Archbishop hadn't indicated any issue with Dawn Thantès. Whether the Archbishop had failed to notice or simply hadn't mentioned it remained unclear. Daili nodded gently, her eyes softly turning toward the restroom. Before getting off the carriage, Audrey held her invitation in her hand, gazed out at the scenery, and looked forward to the future with enthusiasm. She would serve as a council member and join the fundraising and external liaison department. PS: First more, then improved—back to normal tomorrow.